


They offered me comfort (but comfort isn't you)

by MoonchildMalec



Category: Shadowhunters, Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Battle, Character Death, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Malec, My poor babies, Post-Book(s), Protective Alec Lightwood, This gets nasty, lots of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-03 22:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12155982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonchildMalec/pseuds/MoonchildMalec
Summary: As all the vampires in Europe turn rogue and descend on Idris, the gang portal over to fight them. The Alliance runes come into play again, and naturally, Magnus and Alec are teamed up.To think, that the Alliance rune might be as close to marriage as they will ever get.Magnus doesn't like the thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK so this is leaning more towards the books than it does the TV-show, sorry Shadowhunters fans. Magnus and Alec are adorable as parents though, so you really ought to read the books.
> 
> The title is inspired by a Rusty Clanton song. Go check him out on Youtube, he's amazing!
> 
> This heavily reflects the Mood™ I've been in lately. Maybe when I'm in a better headspace, I can write fluff or smut again.  
> Until then, angst is what you'll be getting.
> 
> I'm sorry?

Magnus was waving his hands around in intricate patterns, figuring out the most effective spells to use and where to aim them, furiously taking down one rogue vampire after another.

Around him he could hear the clang of blades and the distinct, squelching sound of them sinking steadfastly into chests. The snarling of Luke’s werewolves provided a background noise and the deep thudding of their paws hitting solid ground made up the beat of the battle. They were all working in perfect unison – striking, moving and even breathing as one.

Magnus caught a flash of Alec, his Alliance rune blazing bright through a tear in his shirt, as he projected a magical shield with one hand at the same time as he hacked away at a vampire with the other. Magnus’ heart swelled at how readily Alec had accepted his magic through the bond, and was grateful for their shared abilities as Alec’s activated surefootedness rune prevented the warlock from sliding down a muddy slope.

A sharp pang struck him unexpectedly in the chest as a thought flitted through the back of his mind. This Alliance rune, the only rune they shared and activated more often than was strictly necessary, was probably as close to being married as they would ever get.

Magnus had been so sure when he’d first turned down Alec’s proposal, but as the years flew by and the Clave showed no sign of changing their minds or giving up their prejudices and racist opinions, despite all their best efforts, Magnus was slowly losing hope.

He was soon pulled out of his reverie by an arrow whistling past his head, so close he could feel the fletching skim his cheekbone. He jumped slightly when a heavy thump followed, and swirled around to find a vampire crumpled on the ground, an arrow protruding from his chest.

Magnus let out a slow breath, knowing instinctively it had been Alec who had fired the arrow, and knowing Alec was keeping an eye out for him made him feel safe.

This was just the latest attack of many. For some reason, the vampire clans in Europe had started going rogue, wreaking havoc across the continent before finally descending on Idris. As this was considered a major threat to Nephilim and Downworlders alike, Jace, Alec, Izzy, Simon and Magnus had rallied their old gang, along with a few younger recruits and various volunteers from Institutes across the world. They had then portalled over to defend Idris – but more importantly, Alicante. Sebastian had managed to break down the wards before his attack all those years ago, so naturally they didn’t trust the wards in the same way they once used to.

The new Shadowhunters among them were soon paired up with the Downworlders who had also turned up (a huffing Catarina looking indignant next to a grinning Kit Blackthorn), and the clearing they were gathered in filled with flashing steles drawing matching patterns on the Shadowhunters and Downworlders, quiet gaps filling the air as the runes started to take effect, along with the occasional groan or splintering of a tree as people were testing out their new powers.

The vampires had attacked as soon as the last rays of sunlight bled out into darkness, just as they had anticipated. They were ready; Alliance runes, Parabatai runes and Marriage runes ablaze, using every option possible to share their strength with each other against the untiring barrage of undead.

The fight had been going for over an hour, and despite energy runes and healing runes, the Nephilim and Downworlders were growing tired.

Magnus could feel his magic slowly depleting, and he had been forced to use a vampire gun once already, cringing at the blood that had flowed over his hands as he pulled it back out.

He could sense Alec’s energy dampening as well, and somewhere distantly, a bond through a bond, he could feel Jace – exhausted, but his resolve still burning bright as ever.

He found himself wondering if there was no end to the vampires in Europe (they seemed to be as ubiquitous as rats in New York), and whether anyone had ever taught them any manners. Attacking someone tirelessly and not giving them a chance to rest and recuperate in between was just plain rude.

Magnus had just taken down a massive oak, pinning a few vampires to the ground for long enough to let the Blackthorns dispose of them, when he felt a sharp sting on his right bicep. He looked down and frowned in confusion when he couldn’t see any damage, but paled as he witnessed the Alliance rune there slowly start to fade. He gazed around in panic, trying to find Alec in the chaos, but found Jace instead. Jace looked the way Magnus felt, worry etched on his face and panic sitting heavy in his gut. Together they took off in a sprint around the battleground, vampires and exhaustion be damned.

Magnus would have missed Alec’s crumpled form on the ground if Jace hadn’t torn the vampire off him in a murderous rage. While Jace repeatedly stabbed the vampire through the heart, Magnus sank to his knees on the mossy ground next to his boyfriend, checking his pulse and found that he was still breathing, but just barely.  
“Oh god, oh fuck. Alexander, just hang on, okay darling? You hear me? Just hang on, I’ll heal you and we’ll get you back home again”, he said with a quivering voice to match his trembling hands, one of which was clamped over the massive gouge in Alec’s neck.

Alec’s own hand was feebly tugging at the hem of Magnus’ coat, his breath coming out in short, pained gasps.

Magnus cursed loudly when he only managed to produce a few single blue sparks, nowhere near enough to heal his bleeding lover.

Soon Jace’s usually steady hands were fumbling with a stele next to Magnus’ bowed head, growing increasingly urgent and desperate as the Iratzes kept fading.

They needed a warlock. A warlock who still had some energy left. Magnus looked around wildly, bellowing “CATARINA” with all his might, praying the healer would hear him.

His attention was drawn back to Alec as he felt the weak tugging at his coat hem again. He leaned down over Alec’s slack body, not caring about getting drenched in blood. If this was going to be it – oh god – it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. “CATARINA!”

Jace had taken off, trying to find the healer before it was too late, but Magnus couldn’t leave Alec’s side. He clutched on tightly, still applying pressure to the gaping wound on Alec’s neck, peppering him with gentle kisses and firm reassurances that everything was going to be okay, that Jace would find Catarina and they would be all right and be able to go home to Max and Rafe again.

He started babbling even more frequently as he felt Alec’s breaths growing fainter and his pulse slowing, and he was sobbing by the time Alec somehow managed to pull him down into a weak kiss.

“Oh fuck. I love you so much darling, so so much. You’re my forever.”

Hot tears were raining down on Alec’s face now, and he managed to croak out “Love… you,” just before his breath hitched – once, twice, and then no more.

The forest floor dropped out from underneath Magnus, and he was sure he was hurtling through space and time in a pattern that made him dizzy enough to throw up. He was lost, so utterly lost, the only tangible thing he could grasp the cooling body in his arms, but he couldn’t piece together the body with the man it belonged to. Had belonged to.

It wasn’t until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder that he became somewhat grounded again. He looked up to see Jace towering over him, tears streaming down his face.

“I couldn’t find Catarina. Is he?...” Jace sounded choked up.

Magnus managed a weak nod, and half caught Jace as he crumpled to the ground next to him, looking stricken and staring at his now almost entirely faded Parabatai rune.

“I have no one left,” he whispered, staring at Alec’s face. Jace was a formidable Shadowhunter, no one could deny that, but when it came to his Parabatai, even he couldn’t carry on fighting. Without Alec, Magnus and Jace both felt there was nothing worth fighting _for_.

So the two men sat there, somehow undisturbed (Magnus later suspected it was Izzy and Simon who had warded off any vampires coming their way), on the forest floor, barely registering the battle raging around them or when the fighting finally simmered out and people – mostly Nephilim – started gathering around them. An icy chill spread through Magnus’ insides at the thought of having to go home to Max and Rafe and tell them that daddy wasn’t coming back, ever.

Magnus was oblivious to the small congregation around them until he felt someone kneel down next to him and grasp his hand firmly in theirs. It was Catarina, wearing an expression of deep sorrow and regret. “Magnus, I’m so sorry.”

Magnus shook his head, trying to convey it wasn’t her fault. He looked up with a pained expression, and held her gaze.

“I should be used to this by now. I’ve lost so many people – so many good people, but I just… I thought we’d have more time.” The last part came out as an uncharacteristic croak.

What finally broke Magnus was the murmured litany that whispered through the trees afterwards.

_Ave atque vale, hail and farewell._

Alec really was gone. The Nephilim had lost one of their finest men, and Magnus had lost the love of his life.

 

The Clave wouldn’t let him attend Alec’s funeral – said it was strictly Shadowhunter business. Magnus suspected he was tearing down many years’ worth of work between the Downworlders and the Clave, but he had grown reckless and raw after Alec’s death.

“You wouldn’t let us get married, and now you want to prevent me from attending Alexander’s funeral?” Magnus fixed the Consul with a steely gaze, the sight of her squirming in her seat giving him a small sense of satisfaction. “You can expect me at the funeral, saying my final farewells to the love of my life. Meeting dismissed,” Magnus exclaimed with a strained voice and a flourish of his hand, trying desperately to uphold his façade, before stalking resolutely out of the hall.

 

The morning after the funeral, Magnus woke up with a wicked hangover and an unfamiliar burning sensation on his chest. He grunted and rolled over onto his back to see a raw and red burn mark spreading out over his chest, just above his heart. Despite its mutilated form, Magnus could make out that it was supposed to resemble a Wedding rune.

As he slowly padded through the loft, shirtless and wretched-looking, he was glad Catarina had agreed to mind the children for a few days. She had taken one look at Magnus and known he needed time to grieve, alone. Magnus sent the poker a nasty glare as he passed the fireplace on his way to gather the ingredients for his healing ointment.

He sighed as he started grinding herbs into a fine powder, once again looking down at his chest. A few tears escaped him as he thought of how they never got to make it real. He never got to call Alec his husband, and now he never would.


	2. Like diamonds in the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus used some of Alec's ashes to make a diamond wedding band for himself. The children make a dinner of pancakes while Magnus takes care of little Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I can't make a diamond out of my mother's ashes, I thought Magnus should have one instead.  
> I'm sorry for the lack of updates recently, but I'm in a state of grief. Any updates or new fics will be sporadic at best, and most likely merely an attempt at distracting myself.
> 
> I hope you understand, I love you all and appreciate everyone who reads my ramblings. <3

Magnus was fiddling with the ring, turning it over in his hand, trying to gather the strength to slip it on. He had, with the help of Jace and Izzy, managed to (highly illegally) obtain some of Alec’s ashes before they were made part of the city of Bones. Not a lot, but enough to make a small diamond. It had taken a few months for the diamond to be made and delivered, but now it was finally here and nestled in a discreet wedding band.

Carefully and ever so slowly, Magnus slipped the ring onto his left finger, then held his hand out to inspect it. It might have been small and indistinct, but that exactly was what made it clash with Magnus’ other rings so horribly. It was a beautiful ring, a thin band of pale gold with a print of wood grain covering its circumference, but Magnus couldn’t stand the sight of it next to the other rings, the relics of his life before Alec. He had found that after Alec’s death, it was as if everything before Alec vanished. He couldn’t remember a time before Alec, and he wished he didn’t have to make new memories after him. Oh, how desperately he wished.

He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, before resigning with a heavy sigh and started slipping all the other rings off his fingers, all except one. The Lightwood family ring got to keep its place on his opposite hand. He would never even think of parting with it.

He got up from his perch on the bed, and ordered his monogrammed signet rings in his jewellery box, letting his fingers trace the familiar M.B. before snapping the lid shut with an air of finality. He found himself wondering why he had ever worn the monogrammed rings in the first place, anyone worth knowing already knew who he was. Then again, the old Magnus had been self-centred and keen on showing off his riches, whereas the new Magnus recognised that all the money in the world couldn’t make up for his loss.

As he stood brooding over the jewellery case, careful to avoid his own reflection in the mirror hanging above the dresser, he was startled out of his thoughts by a small knock at the door.

He swung it open through magic, and found Max stood in the doorway. He had clearly just woken up from a nap, judging by the blanket he was trailing along the floor.

Magnus crouched down and swept him up into his arms, bracing the blue child on his hip. He was getting too heavy to carry, but Magnus found himself needing the comfort of clingy, small hands and eskimo kisses.

“Hi blueberry,” he said with controlled gentleness, sweeping Max’s hair back to take a look at his budding horns. “Are these giving you trouble? Do they hurt?”

When Max managed a small nod, burying his face in his father’s chest, Magnus started making his way through the loft, dodging toys and evil, evil legos, to get to the medicine cabinets. On his way, he noticed that Rafe and Madzie appeared to be giggling and making pancakes for dinner, but he shrugged it off and told himself they were old enough to manage pancakes on their own. Besides, any mess could easily be cleaned up through magic.

He sat Max down on top of the table while rooting around the cabinets for the healing ointment and the soothing salve, keeping a careful eye on him so he wouldn’t fall off before he managed to return to the table with his findings.

Magnus had just finished applying the ointment and the salve to the area around Max’s tiny horns when Madzie bellowed “DINNER” from the kitchen.

It took the two of them a while to reach the kitchen, Magnus holding Max’s hand to steady him as he walked with tiny steps resolutely towards the kitchen. Magnus had to catch him once or twice as he nearly toppled over, and had to hold back a curse as he himself stepped on a lego (“That’s it, legos are BANNED from now on”).

His face lit up in a genuine smile, something which felt odd and alien, when he saw what his children had achieved. The table was laden with pancakes, and they had hardly made any mess at all.

“Thank you darlings, what would Papa do without you?” he said, accentuating it with a kiss on each child’s cheek. Rafe feigned mock disgust and rubbed ferociously at the spot his father had kissed, but Magnus saw the little smile he tried to conceal as he sat down.

Once they were all seated, they joined hands.

_“_ _Bendícenos Señor, bendice estos alimentos que por tu bondad vamos a recibir, bendice las manos que los prepararon dale pan al que tiene hambre y hambre de ti al que tiene pan. Amén.”_ Rafe chanted, preferring to revert to his native tongue for matters such as this, despite being well-spoken in English by now.

“Amen,” the others echoed, and after that everything was quiet except for the scraping of knives against plates. Madzie was still holding Magnus’ hand, however, which made it slightly awkward for him to eat.

After a valiant attempt to eat his pancake one-handed, he cleared his throat and turned to Madzie. It was only then that he noticed she was running her thumb over the wedding band.

“Papa, I thought you and Daddy weren’t married?” she queried, unsure, around a mouthful of pancake. Magnus needed to remind himself to teach them better table manners.

He smiled at Madzie, “You’re right, sweet pea. We were never officially married, but in every way that counts, I think we were. Are.”

Madzie seemed to regard this for a moment, before grabbing the chocolate sauce to squirt more onto her pancake and digging in.

They had almost finished eating when she spoke up again, “Does that mean I can have your M.B. rings? My initials are M.L.B.” She stated the last fact as if it was something Magnus didn’t already know.

He smiled a soft smile, thinking of how he was lucky he still had his family.

“Sure you can, sweet pea.”


End file.
